


On your knees

by LauraRose



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - Fandom, Skyfall - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bondage, Caning, Consensual Kink, Dom!Bond, Dom/sub, Kink, M/M, Spanking, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauraRose/pseuds/LauraRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James lets go, and Q enjoys letting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On your knees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xphil98197](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphil98197/gifts).



> This is for my beta, the wonderful xphil98197, who wanted to see dominant Bond. Thanks for trawling through my ideas, bad spelling and brain children.

This was going to be one hell of an awkward conversation. 

 

Eve Moneypenny sat against the creamy leather sofa of the coffee shop and her eyes lingered on the young man in front of her. She took him in slowly, her eyes roaming over him… from the shock of messy curls to the dark eyes that looked slightly alarmed to be here, even as he stirred the earl grey and lifted the thing to his lips. 

 

She watched as Q’s shoulders dropped. 

 

“Quentin…” she said softly and his eyes darted up at her in surprise, one eyebrow elegantly arched. Moneypenny had to suppress a smile. The name was a ridiculous one, used to refer to the man before her when agents and members of staff were in earshot of others. 

 

She opened her mouth but Q cut her off. 

 

“I have _plenty_ of work to be getting on with, not to mention the fact that dou- I mean Robert is heading into a sticky situation soon and I would rather not be away from my department for too long. So can you please get on with it, Eve? Why did Mallory insist on me coming to have coffee with you,” he gave a pointed look at his cup of tea, “and why here? Of all places?” He gestured around them at the Starbucks that they sat in. 

 

Mallory had thought that it may help Q relax, being away from work. 

 

“How was James when he got home?” Moneypenny asked him. There was no point in beating around the bush, 007 was the reason that she was having to have this conversation. The man was a friend… but he was also an ass. Self-centered, arrogant, but charming, big-headed ass. Eve could hardly believe the reports that she heard. Reports about what he was doing… what he had done.

 

If Q told her that they were true, she would take the bloody shot again. 

 

This time, she would not miss. 

 

“He was fine, Miss Moneypenny, as I am sure you know,” Q said, trying and failing to hide the irritation in his voice. His eyes challenged her, told her to get on with it. 

 

Eve exhaled slowly. 

 

“Okay, M asked me to talk to you because he thought that you would feel more comfortable with me then him or Tanner. M received a report from medical. You had your annual check up this morning and they noted that you had a lot of… marks on your body.” 

 

Q’s look was hard, silent and worryingly like his boyfriends. Get on with it. 

 

“They wanted me to make sure that Bond was not hurting you… Make sure that you were safe and not being abused by him - what?” She asked, her voice raising as Q laughed at her. 

“Oh Eve. He doesn’t hurt me in any way I don’t want him too…” the young man all but purred. “Although it's a little embarrassing that this got to M. Tanner too?”

 

Eve lent forwards, stirring a spoon through her latte as she regarded him with calm… 

 

“Care to explain?”

 

Q was only too happy too…

 

The Previous Night…

 

Q gasped as he felt the lips press against his, and his eyes closed. It was something warm, a soothing moment that Bond always gave him. He always started slow, with soft, feather light kisses, but they soon heated into something... more.

 

Q always knew when James needed his submission. It was usually after a mission when he needed to ground and lose himself in him, in taking him apart, reshaping him and remodelling him until he could not walk the next day, and he would pretend that no one else knew that he had been fucked senseless last night.

 

Repeatedly.

 

Tomorrow was going to be one of those days, Q could feel as Bond took hold of the kiss, parting his lips with a swipe of his tongue. Q opened his mouth and Bond took immediate advantage. He explored it with slow gentle licks and Q shivered with delight, his back arching off the wall.

 

A hand moved and the messenger bag was pushed over his shoulder. He did not worry about the laptop in there, Bond lowered it to the floor slowly, before capturing his wrists and pinning them above his head. When Bond broke away, he was panting and those icy blue eyes, the eyes that Q could so easily get lost in... they burned.

 

“You okay?” Q asked softly, leaning in to run his nose along the length of Bond’s, an affectionate gesture. Sweet really, coming from the one who was pinned to the wall, but it was always wise to check with James. Sometimes he needed to be patched up before fucking Q six shades of Sunday - they had already lost two sets of bed sheets though the man’s complete lack of self preservation. 

 

Blood was a bitch to get out, and James got better bonuses than him.

 

James hummed and pressed his erection against Q’s pelvis and Q melted. He pushed against the hands of the blond, but they were unwavering. Bond was grinning at him, and Q returned it. 

 

“All the better for seeing you,” James said and pressed his mouth to Q’s in a soft greeting, a silent reassurance that he was not hurt and he loved Q… but Q knew that. Two years they had been together and although they had their downs, they also reached some incredible highs. Bond was still an agent of MI6, still  his 007, Q would be whatever Bond needed him to be. 

 

He felt his arms get released and hand tangled in his hair, knotty and windswept from the October wind. Bond tugged and Q shuddered. “On your knees, Q,” James breathed the words, and Q felt the moan rise in him as he sunk to to them. A good thing too, his knees had been threatening to buckle. 

 

Bond’s hand carded through his hair, and Q felt his head turn into the touch, pressing into it like a cat… Then Bond was behind him… out of Q’s sight. He whined with a need that was so much a part of him, that he no longer felt any shame. 

 

“Shh…” Bond was behind him, Q could feel his presence like a source of heat behind him. His glasses went from his eyes and something cool and dark pressed over them, and he felt it get tied behind his head. Wiggling the muscles in his face allowed him to deduce that it was in fact… silk. 

 

The kinky bastard was blindfolding him with black silk.

 

The loss of his vision always took a moment to get used to. The moment of panic, the increase in his heart rate, the blood that pounded through his veins. James stayed with him though all those emotions, a hand on the small of his back until he felt the panic subside into the calmness that came beyond and his senses came  alive. 

 

So when Bond gave a one word command - “Strip” - the word was a caramel covered treat that had Q struggling to obey, unable to get his clothes off fast enough. His cardigan came off, and he folded it by feel until it was a perfect folded square before him. His shirt came next, then his tie. He shifted onto his bottom to untie his shoes, take his socks off and then fold his trousers. 

 

Silence held him, and for a moment, Q had a horrible feeling. Had Bond left him? 

 

A hand slid up his spine, fingers trailing. It left him gasping, shuddering as it moved up slowly. Neves fired in him and he had tingles all the way down to his fingertips. That calloused hand moved and cupped around his neck, holding it. 

 

Q had seen James crush a man's windpipe on the last mission. 

 

Q still knew that he was safe and did not allow himself to move. After a moment, he seemed to have passed whatever Bond was testing him for and he felt the collar close around his throat, and buckle perfectly on the middle hole. Not too tight, not too loose. 

 

His hands were lifted and he felt the cuffs go around each wrist. A tap to his hip and he shifted his weight. First to the left, then too the right, allowing James to slide a cuff around each slender ankle.

Did this mean he would end up spread eagled? Or maybe the spreader bar? Q groaned as his mind raced to anticipate the agent, but as always, he knew he would off enough to keep things exciting. James took delight in keeping him on his toes… 

 

And not always metaphorically. 

 

“Q, you're a vision,” Bond said, with awe in his tone. How is it a man who had traveled the world and seduced every kind of beautiful woman could come home and sound more enthralled with him… he would never know, but he would always be grateful for it. 

 

“Thank you, Sir,” Q said softly, his words gentle and he heard the slight hitch in James’s breath. Between his legs, Q was hard. Hard and heavy. 

 

Calloused fingers ran through his hair and Q groaned. “Stand up,” Bond breathed and Q had to be steadied as he tried to get up too fast. James would never let him fall. 

 

With a hand on his arm and the other on the small of his back, he was lead through to the front room. Q felt the wash of heat from the fireplace. Q had wanted to get it blocked up but Bond seemed to like the woodfire chimney. He heard Bond sit back in one of the arm chairs, and Q was left bereft… standing... He clasped his hands behind his back and went to kneel. 

 

James clicked his tongue and Q froze. 

 

“A little birdie told me something today, Q,” purred Bond. A finger trailed slowly from his cuffed wrist up to the crook of his arm. 

 

Q shivered. 

 

“A little birdie told me that you had not eaten lunch for the last three days… again… is that true?” Bond whispered and Q bit his tongue. A thousand excuses ran through his mind, reasons why he had not eaten… he was busy, he wasn’t hungry. Bloody hell, he swore he would fire whoever it was. 

 

Slowly, Q jerked his head in a nod. 

 

Without warning, he found himself tipped forward and over a surface - James's knees. His hands extended in front of him to find the floor and his legs stretched out. Jame's knees parted a little to give Q's cock room, where it rested heavily. 

 

Q groaned. He could not help the sound that came from his parted lips, and he closed his eyes against the blindfold. He had to resist the urge to rut against James's knee but a hand at the small of his back caught his attention. He felt the fingers spread slowly, nails dragging against his skin. Q arched into the touch. 

 

"How many did we agree on every time you missed lunch?" James purred, a honeyed sound that made Q squirm, his insides turning to liquid. 

 

"Three of the best," Q breathed. 

 

The hand came down in his ass, hard, making Q yelp. 

 

"Three of the best, sir!" Q said, the words coming out in a rush. He could feel the vibration run through Bonds chest as he laughed at the discomfort that he was causing Q.

 

Q promised himself that 007 would get nothing more than a water pistol for his next mission.

 

Q knew that he would never carry out out - he loved the vexatious bastard far too much. 

 

"Nine hard ones for not eating lunch. Ready?" Q didn't get a chance to answer as the flat of that man's palm came down on his ass. He yelped with pain, it slid up his spine and through him like warm honey. 

 

He knew Bond would feel the precome on his trouser leg.

 

"One," Q said, taking a deep, calming breath. He could do this. He felt James other hand stroke the small of his back, middle finger touching his spine. 

 

That tiny touch meant so much to him, and told him so much that Bond still struggl-

 

His thoughts hit a brick wall as another smack came down on his rear, hitting the other cheek. "Two," Q heard himself say. 

 

There were seven more, raining down over his bottom and upper thighs, causing a barrage of sensations that slowly melted into something hot and warm and rolling. It was like molten chocolate, deep in his pelvis. It stung like hell but Bond knew he would take care it. 

 

The agent manhandled him until he was sitting up, which made his raw ass smart even more. His breath came in pants whilst his blood roared in his veins. 

 

His senses were alive, heightened by the lack of sight. He could smell James, the scent of sweat mixed with citrus shower gel, and the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood. The hand that stayed on his back was rough and calloused, but it stayed there, stayed the present grounding force. 

 

When Bond crushed his mouth against Q's, it was all Q could do not to melt and just fall into the blonde. Two fingers held into the collar and Q felt his pulse elevate with that slight hint of a threat.

 

That possessive streak in James did things to him.

 

James explored his mouth with slow, reverent kissed, as if he were remembering, re-exploring and re-mapping the feel of Q's mouth. It was slow... Too slow. Q groaned his need and Bond responded. He felt a hand cup the back of his head and Bond devoured him.

 

The spanking made Q's blood sing, a roaring symphony through his veins and the kiss was a  siren song that told him to beg, plead and cry for more. His lips parted to give in and Bond broke the kiss. 

 

Q felt the grip on him tighten and James lifted Q, and Q tried to help by staying relaxed but being moved had the opposite effect, making him tense and he was only able to relax when he felt himself get moved into the sofa. 

 

Gentle hands ghosted across his skin as he was placed on his knees and then encouraged To lean forward. James shadow loomed over him and he felt cushions being moved.

 

Slowly, he was pushed forwards until his cheek was on the sofa and Bond was tugging his arms to rest between his parted legs.

 

Suddenly Q grinned, knowing exactly what Bond's game was. He felt the bar go between his ankles and he groaned with the need. The spreader bar was attached between his ankles and after a touch, the gentle warning, he groaned as his legs were pushed apart. James chuckled and he felt his wrists get attached too the bar. 

 

Something warm and wet flickered over his entrance and Q froze, his entire awareness flooding to his back side. He could feel the touch, feel Bond's hands on his cheeks, spreading him...

 

And then a long slow lick from balls to the base of his spine. 

 

“Bastard,” Q whined, the lick slow and torturous, and the slap on his already hot bottom made him jerk. 

 

“Language,” James snarled, and Q jerked and yelped as a hand came down on his back side. He wriggled, drawing in a shuddering gasp as he felt hands reach through, under his belly and towards his nipples.

 

The pinch was vicious, but he knew that it would hurt more the if he pulled away. Q whined, a high pitched, worried sound… but it was the control that James craved. To go from people hunting you, trying to kill you. It was the need to ground, to remind himself that he was human, that he was safe and Q loved the fact that he could find that in him. 

 

The boffin made himself still, taking calming breaths and after a few moments the harsh pain began to dull into an ache that began to move through him. It moved through him like warm honey, and settled in his groin. He breathed through the pain and let it intensify his pleasure, let it become something that was practically combustible. 

 

Then the tongue, that fucking tongue came again. He was sweating and Bond lapped at his entrance - and made some, frankly, obscene sounds - and Q fought it. Oh, he fought hard not to buck, but worse still… the growing pleasure. Fluttering licks, over and over and over, swirling around it, teeth grazing over the muscle. 

 

Frantically, Q tried to recall the coding that he had been working on in the day an-

 

The orgasm blind sided him. James slipped his tongue passed the delicate ring of muscles and Q saw white. With the force of an exploding star, the orgasm ripped through him. His nipples, his arse and his cock all combined into a rolling heat that shot down his spine like a comet and he didn’t have a hope in hell of stopping it. He was vaguely aware that he was calling out James’s name over and over again as he rocked, James with a firm hand on his spine to stop him hurting himself as basked in the white hot bliss...

 

He sagged into the binds, almost exhausted from the force. His legs shook and he was glad that he was bound because he wouldn’t be able to move for a while. 

 

He could almost feel the smile behind him. Water guns and sellotape for the next mission. 

 

“Oh, Q…” Bond rumbled…”Q, Q, Q…” Hands moved and James reached for something. A swish… and then a sharp crack. 

 

Q froze, his heart rate jumping again. He  knew   that sound. 

 

“What did I tell you about coming?” James purr was as silk now, the sound slid over his skin like a lover's caress and Q found himself shivering. James knew how to take him apart, Q hated and loved him for it. This was their time, and Q was starting to believe it helped him as much as it helped James. 

 

The cane cracked across his back side and Q cried out, the shock of it worse then the bite of it but bloody hell, it  stung.  Perhaps it was the anticipation of it more then anything else.

 

“Answer me, Q,” Commanded James and he could just  see the look on his face. 

 

“Not to!” Q gasped. 

 

Another crack and he shook. His muscles quivered with the onslaught of pain… and yes, there it was… the barest hint of pleasure that uncurled in his belly. The cane cracked again, and Q groaned. This was punishment… but even so, he could breathe through it, work through it… until it cracked the skin on his thoighs, just below the buttocs. 

 

“Mercy!” The word came from his lips, a desperate plea and the next stroke that fell was a lot lighter. It still stung, but changed from pain, to the soft rolling pleasure. Even so, that one would leave a mark and tomorrow he would be trying very hard not to sit down at all.

 

Five in all, leaving Q feeling like jelly. He couldn’t feel his wrists or thighs until he felt the bar vanish. Q was eased over onto his back. He felt the cooling semen, sticky and strange, between his shoulder blades, as he relaxed back onto the sofa. Q felt drunk, almost dizzy with sensation. 

 

He felt his wrists get shackled together again and he froze. James was between his legs. He could feel James’s cock rubbing at the underside of his balls as his mouth moved across his chest, soft and wet… leaving him undone and wanting more. 

 

“Please sir…” Q breathed. 

 

James sucked a bruise under his left nipple, claiming him as his own. “Please sir, what?” Bond breathed and Q could hear the rustling of something. A condom? Probably, he doubted James had gone to medical yet. 

 

“Please… I need you in me,” Q panted, writhing as he did. He couldn’t help it, his entire being was there, wanting James, needing him and aching for them to come back together. He needed to know James was okay… 

 

A mouth moved over his and he blinked as light flooded his world once again. The blindfold was off, and he was floundering in obscurity for a moment until James slid the glasses onto his eyes. 

 

James Bond, A god amongst women was looking down at him like a lion about to pounce. Q quivered at that look. 

 

“Please…” The word was barely audible. James pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him… then slowly, he pushed past the soft, pink lips to touch teeth. Q parted his lips and shivered, and he sucked on the digit. His head moved as a he sucked the finger, swirling his tongue around it as if he was teasing James’s cock and he was rewarded with his lovers groan. 

 

Q slowly became aware of something else. Something warm and slick, pressing against him, pushing into him. Slowly first, then sliding away… then a second finger. Q fell into bliss as he sucked at the digit, knowing what it did to James. Q’s green eyes locked onto James’s blue ones, and he watched the world burn in that gaze. 

 

James crooked a finger, Q gasped. 

 

With firm movements, James stretched him slowly. Fingers pushed in, and Q sung every time they brushed against that sweet spot inside him. Half folded up on the sofa, Q had never felt so alive when James took him apart and every movement sent shivers down his spine and yet he still wanted more. Q whimpered and beseeched him with those green eyes that almost glowed in the light. 

 

Q pleaded and Bond obliged. 

 

The fingers slid away and was replaced by the blunt pressure of James’s cock, hot through the chill of the lubricant. The motion was slow, agonizingly so, and James smirked. Q arched and James reached forward, taking his bound arms and guiding them around his neck. His hands overs, scratching over his hips, then to support his body. 

 

Slowly, James pulled out… and then slammed back in. Q cried as the breath was forced from his lungs. James rolled his hips, a careful motion before he started to thrust. It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t slow. Q felt Bond’s hands on his legs, holding him too him, holding him still as James thrust into him. Bond’s eyes were wide, wild almost with need and Q could see that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t last long. 

 

Bond shifted, and one hand wrapped around his cock as the angle changed inside him, brushing upwards and danced against the prostate gland. “Oh, Fuck!” Q cried and his bound hands clawed at the back of James’s neck. 

 

Q could see it. He could see the moment that the ice covered walls around James’s heart shattered for him once again, and Bond allowed himself to feel again, to really feel. The look brought tears to his eyes as James took him. The pressure inside him was boiling once again and his mouth was parting. 

 

“Come for me, baby,” Bond whispered, and Q watched him shudder. His hand stroked Q’s cock, in rhythm with his movements, in rhythm with his racing heart. Q clenched his muscles and James Bond fell apart before his eyes. Bond bucked, and arched against him, the tip of his cock pushed over the prostate. 

 

Q screeched as the second orgasm ripped through him, his body quaking around James Bond. He squirmed, clawing at the man's neck as fire, white hot, liquid fire ripped him open and it felt like his everything was on view for the world too see… 

 

No, not the world. Just James. 

 

He rode through the storm, through every thunderclap and lightning stroke of his orgasm and at some point, his vision went white as fire, liquid fire ripped him apart… 

 

When he came to, a mouth was moving over his chest and neck, kissing him back into gentle awareness. 

 

Q mewled, as weak and tired as a newborn kitten. 

 

James understood though. He always did. 

 

The collar came off, and then the arms were eased off his neck. Between kisses and soothing touched, James unshackled him, leaving everything where he was. Naked except for his glasses, James scooped him up bridal style, and carried him to their bedroom. He used his elbow to turn the light on - Q jumped at the sudden brightness and James laid him down as if he was the most precious thing in the world. 

 

“I’ll be back in a moment, Love,” James breathed and Q could only nod. Perhaps he dozed for a moment because when he came back to, James was easing him over onto his front. Q made a grumble of protest and James chuckled. 

 

“Blue tack… blue tack and water pistol, you prick,” Q muttered as he felt the cooling touch of arcania cream on his back side. James laughed and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

 

“You okay?” he asked Q as he smoothed the cream over the skin. Q hummed an affirmative and was quiet, smiling contentedly as James took care of him. Q swallowed the paracetamol with the glass of orange juice and then snuggled into James’s side. 

 

He would be sore tomorrow, but for this, he would endure anything. 

 

He lay there for a long time, listening to James’s heart beat… steady. Strong. He listened as if to remind himself that James was there, to know that his lover had come home again. 

 

“James?”

 

“Mmm?” 

 

Q pushed himself up and looked down into those sleepy blue eyes. 

 

“I have a request for sometime when you want to play,” he said slowly. 

 

That caught James’s attention. Q had never asked for so much as a tissue from him during sex, or any other time for that matter.

 

“Well, you remember when Alec was home and he joined in? I was wondering… well…” 

 

Q leant into his neck, and whispered his request. Bond looked surprised and then chuckled softly. “You sure?” 

 

Q nodded. “I’ve never…” James pressed a finger to his lips.

 

“Go to sleep, love… I will think of something…”

 

With a contented sound, Q snuggled down and fell asleep almost instantly…

  
  
  


Moneypenny squirmed in her seat. She had known they were involved… but wow. Just… Her coffee had long gone cold, and that was in spite of the fact that her mouth was dry. She wetted her lips and then narrowed her eyes as Q smirked at her. 

 

Q’s phone started to vibrate on the table and he scooped it up. 

 

“Yes,” he barked, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes for a moment. “Yes, I will be right there… no, do not let him go in with the hose…” He sighed, exasperated with the idiots around him and looked at her. 

 

“Are we done here, Eve? Robert’s situation is getting a little heated…” 

 

Meaning that he had set fire to another building. Idiot. 

 

Moneypenny nodded and waved a hand. “Yes, thank you Q. You may go… I will fill in the appropriate paperwork and make sure everyone knows that it's sorted… Nothing to worry about...” 

 

The young man nodded his head politely at her, and swept out the Starbucks, leaving heads turned in his wake. 

 

Eve shifted in her seat… and after a moment of indecision, pulled out her phone and dialed a number… 

 

003 was an absolute idiot and if Q found out who ever gave him the 00 status needed to be shot. 

 

Q slammed into the apartment, threw his messenger bag on the floor and then stopped. 

 

“James?” Q asked slowly. The agent stood before him, his jacket and tie no where in sight,  leaning casually against the work counter. The collar was in his hand. 

 

A hand came down over his eyes from behind, another around his middle. 

 

Perfume filled his nose. 

 

“Hello, Q,” Eve purred in his ear and licked the shell of it. 

 

“On your knees.”


End file.
